


House of Escher

by swtalmnd



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Pre-Canon, dream architecture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 20:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20087989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: Arthur doesn't build because he can't not make unreal, surreal mazes.





	House of Escher

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in my wip folder for ages, so I cleaned it up and brought it to an ending, thus making me 100% Inception-wip-free! Now if only I could do that with my other dozen works in progress...

In Arthur's dreams, geometry was broken. Even before he discovered dreamshare, he populated the worlds of his mind with paradoxical architecture and Escher-worthy landscapes. Penrose triangles and staircases were favorites, but he loved Möbius strips, impossible cubes, blivets, and dozens of other things he had no name for.

When he'd finally been hooked up to a PASIV and designed his first dream, everyone had been amazed and confused by the weirdness of Arthur's inner architecture, the stairs that went nowhere and everywhere, the waterfalls that fed their own streams in an endless loop, the places Arthur could shift his own perception and leave pursuers stranded. They'd started training him as an architect straightaway, and discovered the real flaw of Arthur's imagination -- he could make the most fantastical optical illusions, but he had trouble with simple reality.

"Let me see what you can dream up," said Eames, idly lounging by the pool at their hotel in the middle of a job so full of delays even Arthur was out in a swimsuit doing laps.

"What?" asked Arthur, lazily making his way over to the edge of the pool by Eames' lounge chair.

"I've never seen your architecture, and I'm very curious now. I'll let you bother my projections all you like in return," said Eames. He drank another big slurp of the fruity concoction he'd ordered while flirting with the poolside waiter.

"I'm not hooking up with you when you've been drinking," said Arthur, taking the easy out.

Eames' grin only widened. "It's virgin, unlike either of us," said Eames. "Or so I presume?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Mature," he replied, diving back under the water to resume his laps, figuring that would be the end of it.

Eames, however, was oddly determined. He followed Arthur back up to his room and ordered room service while Arthur showered off the chlorine, then brought the subject back up again after they'd sat down to mediocre steaks on Arthur's tab. "So, about your dreams," said Eames, taking a pointed sip of his Coke.

"Why?" asked Arthur, cutting into his steak and trying to look nonchalant. He had no desire to deal with someone throwing up in his room just because their minds couldn't handle the landscape of Arthur's. Again.

"Why don't you want to? It's not as if I'm asking to interrogate your projections," said Eames.

Arthur sighed. "Do you know what paradoxical architecture is?"

Eames cocked his head, and then something dawned on his face. "You're the bloke from the American military, the one that they were going to use as a secret weapon because of your architecture!" he said delightedly.

"Only our team couldn't keep it together in my dreams, either, and they finally gave up and let me do what I do best. I'm a little better now, but I can't really keep things from getting weird for long." Arthur poked at his broccoli, which was perfectly cooked, if slightly cold.

"I hope that face is for your food," said Eames. "I can handle a few paradoxes, you know." He had another bite of his own steak somewhat pointedly.

Arthur chuckled. "It's not just a few, though." 

"What's the harm if I can't handle it?" asked Eames curiously.

"You'll puke when you come up," Arthur replied dryly. "And I'll have to clean your steak and broccoli off my floor."

Eames huffed. "I will not," he said, and at Arthur's skeptical look, he added, "Fine, put me under in the bathtub if you must."

"You still haven't told me why," said Arthur. "No why, no dreaming."

Eames chuckled. "Misdirection's stopped working on you," he complained good-naturedly. He sat back and sipped his Coke, food abandoned for the moment. "You intrigue me, and I want to be up to the challenge. I want to be better than the other people you've allowed into your mind."

Arthur made a considering noise and ate another bite of his steak. "Fine. But if you barf, you're cleaning it up and paying for the room, including the room service tab. And tipping the maids."

Eames barked out a laugh. "Deal."

Arthur just hoped Eames would be able to keep from dying too fast, given the way physics failed to work in his mind. It was always worse when they died in the dream instead of making it to the end of the time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who made Inception such a welcoming fandom for me, and especially kate_the_reader, who betaed my first Inception fic and brought me into the fold.


End file.
